Kill Me Now
by Random Ravenclaw91
Summary: Hermione is Draco's new boss. In this situation comes hatred, arguments, and maybe even some passion.


**Author's Notes:**

_This was written for the Dumbledore's Hat Fic Exchange in the SBBC over on MNFF. My quote was: "Granger, I really can't believe what sort of crap I have to do for my job." (from a poem by coppercurls) Written for Nikkisue._

_Hermione's speech inspired by Max Medina's proposal to Lorelai in Gilmore Girls. Thanks to my friend Hannah/thechocolatefrog for her help while I was writing this, and a huge thanks to BertieBottsBeans741 for beta'ing!_

"You're being moved from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and into Magical Law enforcement. You'll have the second-highest position."

"_What?_ Is this because you just put me in charge and don't think I can handle it or something? I'm getting _demoted_, Kingsley!" I exclaimed. God, I didn't even need this bloody job — I had more money than I could ever spend — but this was the only way I could think of to help my family gain the trust of Saint Potter and the rest of the wizarding world. Still, I worked damn hard, and now I was being moved to a different department and wouldn't even be the head anymore?

"We're not demoting you," Kingsley, the Minister of Magic, explained in a calm voice.

"I won't be head — I'll be working under someone," I said flatly. "That's called demoting." 

"But it's a bigger department."

"But I'll have to work with someone else."

"Your pay will be greater."

"Really?" I asked, the edge coming off my anger with that fact.

"Yes, really. And, Mr Malfoy, you have to admit that you're better as a second-in-command than the head of a department. You do find it more enjoyable, correct?"

I nodded, looking away. Okay, in that way he had me. I did like that aspect of the job better; I liked the feeling of power it gave me. The head of a department made the rules, and the second-command enforced them. But I also liked being the best, and not having to answer to anyone in my department. "Can I refuse and keep my current job?" I snapped. 

"No," he answered evenly. 

"Fine, I'll take it," I told him, sulking a little. After all, I didn't really want it, but I had to. 

"There's a new head of the department, by the way."

I nodded, because at the time I assumed he was referring to the fact that someone would obviously take my place. I didn't bother to ask, because I honestly didn't care. I would find out soon enough who was taking my job.

--

I was instructed to meet my new boss the next morning, and I was prepared. It was run by a faintly boring but always-poised man by the name of Towler. 

So when I knocked and heard a feminine voice invite me in — one that sounded strangely familiar — I stood in shock for a moment. Who was in there? Did I recognise that voice correctly?

I opened the door, and — sure enough — I was right. 

"Granger," I greeted, my voice icy. "Why the hell are you here? Promoted to secretary?"

"That's not a good first impression to make on your _boss_, Malfoy," she answered, her face smug. 

"What happened to Towler?" I asked, sitting across from her, looking disgusted. 

"He and I switched jobs. And now I'm your superior… Funny how things like that work out."

"Oh, yeah, it's hilarious."

"Well, wonderful," she commented, still looking haughty. "You know, you have to at least pretend to be polite, because otherwise, sorry, you'll be fired." She didn't look sorry at all. As a matter of fact, she look entirely too pleased. 

"You know what, Granger?" I retaliated. "I don't take orders from a Mudblood like you—"

"Oh, and that's another thing, Malfoy. Under no circumstances are you to call me a Mudblood. If you do, you'll be fired on spot. Of course, you already have used that word, but I'll just give you a warning since you might not have known that rule… Even though it's more a rule of civilised society, and you shouldn't be using it at all…"

"I'll call you a Mudblood anytime I want," I snarled. "I'm talking to Kingsley about this joke of his."

--

"What the hell are you trying to pull?" I snapped, once he let me in. "_Granger is my boss_, Kingsley!"

"Yes, she is. She's by far the most qualified for the job, and you two need to put your history aside and—"

"I _hate_ her. I can't even be in the same room with her."

"So, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Transfer me back," I said, forcing myself to be calm. After all, Kingsley was not at all impressed or scared of shouting, unfortunately. 

"Absolutely not," he answered. 

"Then I quit," I snapped. The bliss settled over me for a moment. To be free of this place would be wonderful. I wouldn't have to go to work or do anything at all. I would finally have time to—

Then I realised. 

I couldn't quit! My mother and father and I were all counting on a new level of respect that should come with this job. I couldn't just throw that away, not after years of work and a great amount of progress. It was bloody obnoxious being the one who had to do it all — who had to make what felt like everyone think the Malfoy family was okay. The task was so impossible, and yet I had to try. And this was the reason I was chained to my job… I was practically a wage-slave!

"I'm sorry, Kingsley," I said lamely. "I can't quit, can I?"

His face was stern. "After this outburst, if I hear one negative thing from Miss Granger about your behaviour, you can bet, Mr Malfoy, that you won't have to quit because you'll be fired immediately. You may leave."

Which meant that I had to be polite to Granger.

_Kill me now._

--

I opened the door to her office without even pausing to knock.

"Here to stay, Malfoy?" she asked, that arrogant look still plastered on. 

"God, Granger, I really can't believe what sort of crap I have to do for my job," I snapped. Then I stormed out again. 

"I left assignments on your desk!" she called after me. 

My only answer was a loud slam. 

--

"Your work has been fair this past week, but there has been one problem," Granger told me, leaning back in her seat with the permanent superior look on her face.

"Oh really? And what is that, Granger?"

"You seem to be under the impression that you're Harry's boss. You aren't," she said. "He's in charge of the Auror Department, and even though that Department is located here, we are not in charge of him. So if you keep bossing him around, he's going to curse you." She didn't exactly look frightened at the prospect of my imminent curse; in fact, she looked rather pleased, as if she might enjoy doing it herself. 

"Maybe Potter should stop talking to me, and then I won't be forced to yell at him — did you ever think of that?"

"This argument between you and Harry is not my concern, but I think you would be able to tell that, if given the choice between believing you or Harry, the entire world would choose Harry. You may leave."

--

"We need to talk," I told her, storming inside. 

"A knock would be good," she answered smoothly. "As a matter of fact, I rather think it's required."

"Do you want me to go back out, knock, and therefore waste time for both of us?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I would."

"Just pretend I did, and maybe you'll feel better." And then I sat down, not caring if she was offended, not caring she was my boss, and not even thinking about Kingsley's warning. 

"Granger, my point is that all you've done the last three weeks is yell at me, telling me I'm not working hard enough or doing enough, when you know damn well that those workers out there are working harder than they ever have, and doing better than they ever had, solely because of me," I snapped. I was in a rage. She was being even more insufferable than she ever had. "You honestly think that their hard work and my long hours mean that I'm not working properly? If that's the case, fine, but I don't think Kingsley would agree. And if you're trying to torture me, go to hell!" Because, honestly, no job was worth her telling me that I sucked at my job when I was doing damn well. If I were her boss, I would probably be doing the same thing, but that was not the point. She was being rude and unprofessional. 

"Malfoy, I will not have you speak to me that way. I will talk to Kingsley about this, I swear," she told me, her face stern.

"Fine," I answered, just as serious. "Let's go talk to him now."

"_'Let's'?_… Malfoy, you aren't coming with me," she said flatly.

"Of course I am. He needs to hear both sides."

"Do you think I am incapable of—"

"Yes, I do. The only reason I can see for you not wanting me there is that you're afraid he'll take my side."

"He won't take your side!"

"So you're afraid?"

"I most certainly am not!"

"Well, then, let's go."

"Fine."

I smirked as we left. Gryffindors were so predictable

--

"Come in," Kingsley's deep voice called. 

"Sorry to interrupt you, Kingsley, sir," Granger said in her most polite tone — which was certainly exactly the same voice she had used on the professors at Hogwarts. "But we had quite an argument and we think we need an outside person to solve it."

"Certainly. Sit. Miss Granger, you may speak first."

Of course he would let the Mudblood have her say first. It wasn't as though anything I said would have any effect on her words. People probably thought Granger was the most trustworthy person ever. 

She told him about how rude I was earlier, and how unprofessional I acted. She told him about how my work was not up to standard, and that she had every right to criticise me for it. 

"My work," I said, calmly and coldly, "has not been poor at all, Kingsley. You can see by the numbers and the amount of things getting done that I have done nothing but increase productivity. As for being rude, all I can answer is that Granger has done nothing but berate me since I began to work, and has made it her personal mission to make my career here as miserable as possible, perhaps with the intent of running me out and getting someone like Weasley to take my place—"

"How _dare_ you say such things!" she finally exploded, her face crimson in anger. "I have done nothing of the kind. You're the cause of all of this—"

"You're the one who says my work is terrible—"

"And you're just dying to call me a Mudblood the whole time, aren't you?"

"I never have, have I?"

"Not the point! You want to, and you hate me, and now you're lying to get me fired!"

"You're the one trying to get me fired," I growled. "And what have _I_ done?"

"Everything you shouldn't!"

"I've done _nothing wrong_—"

_"Enough!"_ Kingsley yelled above the din. We both stared at him, surprised to remember he was still there, and had seen the entirety of that interaction. "You two are in charge of one of the most important departments in the Ministry, and you're acting like children," he scolded sternly. We both turned pointedly away from each other. "You should both be ashamed. An outburst like that can — and will — cost both of you your jobs. I am not firing or demoting you now, but be warned that you both will be watched very closely to ensure this does not happen again. Can you imagine if your staff heard an argument such as this? Do you want to alienate your respect? Can't you see the consequences this could have? You are both at fault for this. You shouldn't let a childhood feud cause such a hostile working environment. You are both talented and integral to the workings of this government. 

"Miss Granger, I have seen evidence of Mr Malfoy's work, and everyone agrees he is doing far better than any of us could even have expected, and given time, I'm sure he will cause a great and positive change in your department. You have no reason to tell him he isn't working efficiently, and, in fact, you should be encouraging him." Granger looked ashamed, and I tried my hardest — and succeeded — in not smirking. "And, Mr Malfoy, you are not to show any hostility toward your boss, who is — it should be unnecessary to say this, but I think you need me to — in charge of you and is allowed to order you to do something that you may not want to do. If you feel she is being unfair, you may come see me instead of getting into a screaming match. Understood?"

We glared in opposite directions. "Fine, Kingsley. I'll try," Granger said, her voice angry. I nodded my assent. 

"Well, if that's the way it's going to be, then I'm afraid more drastic measures are called for," he told us gravely. 

We both instantly looked toward him, concerned about what exactly he would tell us to do. 

"Tonight, you will have a conference over dinner. You must be civil to each other. I will be sitting a few tables away, and be warned that if I see anything short of civility, consequences will not be light. Cancel any plans you have, and I will meet you immediately after work… Oh, and if you think you'll be able to just ignore each other and not speak the entire time, think again. I will personally make sure you are speaking and 'getting to know each other', as they say. You are both dismissed."

--

"So he seriously expects us to sit here and talk as though we can vaguely tolerate each other?"

"Well, I certainly hope he's paying for it, Granger. I'm getting steak."

"That's all you have to say?" she whispered furiously. 

"Okay, Granger, I don't want to sit here and act like I'm having a good time either, but we have to," I snapped. "Now, Kingsley is looking over here, so wipe that stupid look off your face and pick out something to order."

She politely told our order to the waiter, and then, as soon as he left, she turned to me, the angry look on her face again. I leaned back, unflustered and looking superior.

"So, Granger, I think Kingsley was serious about knowing what we're talking about over here, don't you?" 

"Yeah," she sighed. 

"Well then, start babbling about something. I'll pretend I'm listening."

I tried to tune out her words as she began to speak, looking sullen. By this time I think we had both realised that if we didn't keep up a polite charade at this dinner, we'd be fired. But soon I had to start listening, because there was nothing else to listen to. 

"—Ron and I are engaged, and—" she was saying.

"Congrats to the weasel," I answered, bored. 

She stared at me strangely. Oh, probably because that was the first time I had spoken (or paid attention, for that matter) in her entire five-minute speech. Now that I had noticed her, she seemed to be more hesitant to speak. 

"So where did you work before you got your current position to torture me?"

"Magical Creatures."

"That oaf would be proud."

"Yeah, _Hagrid_ would."

There was a long silence. 

"So," she began shakily, "what about you? Did you and Pansy ever—"

"Pansy's bloody obnoxious, and I pity the man who ends up with her," I spat truthfully. Everyone always thought I would end up with Pansy, and to some extent I could see why, considering I did keep her around a long time, but really, not all of us were like Potter or Granger and ended up with our first crush. "I'm not with anyone."

"Well, that's good."

"Good?"

"I just meant—" she hastened to explained.

"No, I get it. You're saying that you wouldn't want any woman to be forced to be with me, correct?"

She shrugged.

"You have a lot of nerve, Granger… But it isn't as though a non-annoying Gryffindor could actually exist, so maybe it's understandable."

"Very funny, Mafloy. You're just hilarious."

--

"So every member of the Golden Trio got to work at the Ministry the day the Dark Lord died, even though none of you finished Hogwarts, is that right?"

Granger nodded.

"Major favouritism, isn't it? I guess all rules can be bent for people like you, right? Who cares if you used Unforgivable Curses! You saved the world!"

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm," she said coldly.

"Well, that's just too bad. I hate doing things you don't appreciate, after all."

She turned away from me.

--

"So, when are you marrying Weasley?"

"Oh, four more months," she answered. 

"So you like stupid, annoying men?"

"Or maybe," she snarled, "I like men who are kind, funny, and understand me."

"Yeah, because I'm so sure Weasley can understand half of what you can. His brilliance often blinds me."

"Ron is wise in his own way," she told me regally. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about Ron to you. Why did you even decide to work in the Ministry in the first place? I don't think you exactly need the money."

I shrugged. "My family—"

"Aw, Malfoy did something for his family?" Granger said in a mocking baby voice.

"You sound like Bella," I commented.

"Don't say things like that to me!" she exclaimed, apparently not flattered by the comparison to my aunt Bella. "Besides, if I were Bella I probably would have killed you by now."

"Oh really, why? For speaking to you?"

"For not answering my question."

"I joined the stupid Ministry because it was annoying to have everyone hate me," I answered, telling the truth for some reason.

"Sensitive?"

"Oh yeah, Granger, I feel like bawling right now."

"Have fun with that."

"Oh, I will. Should I go into the corner or stay here?"

"I think it would be a nice show if you just wanted to do it here. I could use a laugh."

"Whatever makes you happiest."

"Yeah, because my happiness has always been on the top of your priority list."

"It has been. Right below killing myself."

"So it's second?"

"Yep."

I thought I saw her smile for a moment, but then I was convinced I imagined it. After all, the only reason she could be smiling is because she enjoyed banter or something, which didn't seem the best reason. She paused for a moment, before speaking again, "Do you know you've gone through an entire dinner without calling me a Mudblood?"

"Do you want me to start now? Because I will — just say the word."

"Maybe next time."

"Yeah, because I'm sure there'll be a next time."

"You never know. Kingsley's harsh."

"Well, this was terrible, you have to admit, Granger," I told her.

"Yeah, the worst," she answered.

For some reason I felt like smiling, but I didn't, of course. Instead I settled for a smirk. 

--

"Well, bye, Malfoy," she said. After two hours of sitting with her, I was glad she was leaving. At least, I thought I was. No, no, I was, really. 

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

"At work."

"Yeah."

We just stood there awkwardly. 

"Well, thanks for wasting my time, Malfoy," she said in a strange voice. It almost seemed unwilling. 

"Well, it is third on my priority list." Then I Apparated. 

--

Things got strange after that dinner. One day we were getting into screaming fights in the office, and the next we were talking to each other in normal tones, though never fully politely. There was definitely still the banter, the arguments, but there was something else too. 

Something I didn't really understand. 

Her smug look was suddenly replaced with one of confusion. She avoided my eyes quite often, and she frequently blushed when I was around. She stammered and got clumsy no matter what I was doing. She even told me that I wasn't working too terribly. 

It was a change, even a welcome one, but it did throw me off. I found myself avoiding her. After years of always acting the same way around each other, such a transformation was…

Well, I honestly didn't know what to think. 

--

"What, Granger?" I snapped. "I'm working here just like you told me to, and then you feel the need to just come in here and — and…" Then my words died on my lips, because for some reason Granger was standing there, her eyes far too worried to just be about work. As strange as she had been lately, even this was a stretch. "What's wrong with you?" I asked harshly, even though part of me was a bit concerned — not because I remotely cared about her — but because she looked like she was going to faint. If she was going to pass out, the least she could do was not do it in front of me, or else I would have to deal with it. I had enough going on without an unconscious Mudblood to worry about. 

"I — I have something to talk to you about," she answered, still looking pale, but once she started talking she seemed to get her courage back.

I leaned back in my chair. "Am I going to have to sit here all day? Or eventually will you start speaking?"

She ignored me. "Just don't interrupt me, okay? Just wait until I'm finished."

"I don't know why I should take orders from a filthy—"

"_Malfoy_," she warned.

"Fine, go." Then I was looking at her intently, wondering what exactly it was she had to tell me. 

"Malfoy, all my life I've read books and novels," she started to explain, and looked down, not meeting my eyes. "I've read about so many people who wait years and never do the things they should, especially in romance. Just because it isn't the person they expect to end up with, they deny it, and never do anything about it. It always frustrated me, and last night I realised I was doing _exactly the same thing_." I think I stopped looking at her in my usual mocking way at that moment, and for once I was serious. "Malfoy, I have a ring on my finger, a house picked out, and a great fiancé who I love and who will always love me. Ron gives me stability and safety, and I always thought that was what I wanted, what I needed. But now I know I'm just like those characters, and I'm letting this opportunity slip by. True love — I never thought it existed. Or if I did, I thought I had it with Ron. But Ron doesn't make me feel the way someone else does — the way I know I should feel." Her face was completely crimson by now, and she still was looking down. "I don't want to hurt Ron, since I really do love him, but I can't help but be annoyed with myself, and the things I'm letting slip away. The love I have for Ron isn't the same — it isn't what I need — what I want."

"Look at me," I said, more gently than usual. I figured I shouldn't be too hard on her, since she was pouring her heart out to me and everything. 

She looked up, and she flinched a little. 

"What's the way you think you should feel?"

"Like I'm going on an adventure," she explained. "Like everything is bright and new and wonderful. I like not knowing what to expect, and only going by how I feel… I feel happy, and sort of scared, like it's a risk I should take."

"What's your point, Granger?" I asked.

She kept looking at me as she said clearly, "Malfoy, I'm saying that ever since that dinner… I'm in love with you."

"Really?" Well, I couldn't let her go that easily.

"Yes," she whispered, and I could tell she was sincere.

Far from making my happy, it made me angry. I jumped up and walked over to her, standing just inches in front of her. "So what are you going to do about it, Granger?" I snarled. "Are you going to go run back to Weasley after saying all this, or are you going to do something?"

"I'm going to… break up with him," she answered, her eyes tearing up. She took off her diamond ring, and I watched as it fell to the floor. For a moment I just stared at the ring that had held so much meaning just lying there, abandoned.

"Are you really? You're going to move out, break up the Golden Trio, and hurt your best friends?" It didn't seem like her, not at all. She didn't take risks.

But we both stared at the ring on the floor, and she spoke quietly, "I have to, Malfoy, if you feel the same way… I can't marry him, not now — not after everything that's happened. I don't want to hurt him, but I have to. He shouldn't be with me anyway, not when I'm treating him like this…"

"Really?" I asked again, my voice different, not as cold. 

"Yes, Malfoy, really. He'll always be one of my best friends, but we can't be together anymore… You have tell me what you think of me, right now," she said, her voice still shaking. 

"God, Granger, sometimes you are an idiot," I answered, this time more playful instead of cold. 

I got a glimpse of an amused instead of offended face as I bent down and kissed her.

**End Notes:**

_This was the first, and probably the only, D/Hr fic I have ever, and will ever, write, and I would love to know what you thought of it._


End file.
